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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22935964">Withdrawal</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/LexInWonderland/pseuds/LexInWonderland'>LexInWonderland</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Shameless (US)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Addiction, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Cigarette Addiction, Cigarettes, Drug Addiction, Drug Withdrawal, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Insecurity, M/M, Mentions of Suicidal Thoughts, Serenading, Song Used: Perfect by Shaun Hoffman (Ed Sheeran Cover), Withdrawal</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-02-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-02-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 08:07:25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,620</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22935964</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/LexInWonderland/pseuds/LexInWonderland</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Ian and Mickey have decided to take a step into bettering their health. One of those things? Quitting smoking cigarettes. And while they know this is to benefit them. Mickey is taking it harder on than Ian is. Going into full withdrawal and deep insecurity. But Ian is there to comfort him. And remind him that he is perfect just the way he is.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>28</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Withdrawal</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Mickey's been in bed for days. He doesn't want to do anything because he feels so fucking miserable. See, a few weeks ago, we both agreed that we need to kick our cigarette habits. That deal started with coughing becoming hacking. And hacking becoming Mickey passing out while doing house chores while I was at work. At about 5:30 I got a call from a worried and freaked out Liam saying:<br/><br/>"Um...Ian? I think Mickey's sick?" With such an undescriptive diagnosis, I didn't know what it was.<br/><br/>"Well, you know where the cold and headache medicine is, right?" But...that wasn't the kind of sick he was referring to.<br/><br/>"He uh...he's doesn't have a fever or anything but...he uh...his head is cracked open. I think he passed out." And now I'm freaking out, rushing to my supervisor to let him know I have to take this because of a family emergency. I don't even realize I'm crying until I hear how croaky my voice is.<br/><br/>"Is...is he bleeding? Is he breathing?" Liam checks and sees a tiny amount of blood on the left side of Mickey's head. But his chest is rising and lowering at a steady pace still.<br/><br/>"Not too much blood but yea, he's breathing. I think you need to get here...I'm worried." I thank Liam and hang up. Telling my boss I need to go home earlier. He nods and lets me go. I speed a few red lights and stop signs on the way home. And somehow don't get caught by any cops. Especially because of the icy streets of the December Illinois environment.<br/><br/>I make it home in almost forty minutes and rush to the door, but he's already being taken out a gurney. "Hey!" I yell and rush over the ambulance. Thank fucking god for Liam being smart and calling 911. The EMTs look up and see my drenched red face and immediately stand in my way. "Please...he's my husband." I show the ring on my finger as proof. I guess they see it as concrete enough evidence for me to ride with him to the hospital.<br/><br/>I wait what seems like countless hours for an answer about what happened. And in this time of panic, there was only one person I could think of to call. <br/><br/>"Hello?" I sigh in relief and melt into one of the waiting room's plastic blue chairs as I hear Fiona's voice. "Ian?" She speaks, peppered with concern. Probably because it's evident that my breathing is heavier than usual. <br/><br/>"Fiona..." My voice is soft and crackly. Like it's walking on cracking ice patches, trying not to break them and fall into the shivering waters. "Something's wrong with Mickey..." I can feel my tears soaking my face. <br/><br/>"Is he- what happened?" She speaks to me like she did when I was first showing signs of having the same kind of fucked up Bipolar as mom. Cautiously and softy. While trying to be as nurturing as possible.<br/><br/>"I don't know what exactly happened but...Liam found him on the floor. Head cracked open...breathing steady but. Fuck, I'm so worried, Fiona." My leg is shaking and my fingers are twitching. Tears are a cascading waterfall. I've never been this concerned. At least...I haven't been in a long time.<br/><br/>"Well, you and I both know: That Mickey...is a <em>fighter."  </em>She speaks in her motherly tone.<br/><br/>"I know...but I can't help but be scared shitless. Thank god Liam knew to call 911." Fiona smiles, so proud of the youngest Gallagher. I look up when his attention is grabbed by a blonde man in blue scrubs and tan, wirery 70s glasses. "Gotta go, I'll update you. Promise..."<br/><br/>"You better," This lightens the tension and makes me laugh. "Love ya, Ian."<br/><br/>"Love you too...bye Fi." He hangs up and stands. "How is he?" I ask in a rushed tone.<br/><br/>"May I ask what your relation is to Mr.Milkovich?" The man questions while examining the file in his hands.<br/><br/>"His husband. We got married a little over a year ago." The man nods and looks up.<br/><br/>"Well, he's in stable condition. But it seems to have been a high amount of nicotine in his system that caused it. That coupled with sleep deprivation," Those words hit me deep and hard. He knows what it's like not to be able to sleep. I just wish Mickey would've told him...<br/><br/>"May I ask, how often does Mr.Milkovich smoke daily? Average." I look up and think, the answer being painful to realize...<br/><br/>"About...five to ten cigarettes a day." He admits. "Depends on his mood." The man nods and makes a note of this.<br/><br/>"Well...I think both of you should greatly consider quitting. Because this could easily become a deadly situation." I nod. I always heard that smoking cigarettes was inhaling poison. But I never knew it would get one of them wound up in the hospital.<br/><br/>"Can I see him?" <br/><br/>"Yes...but he's just awoken, and he's heavily sedated on pain medication. So I'd be careful." I nod and head to my husband's room.<br/><br/>When he gets there, he tears up even more. The man he loves...looks so helpless. Hooked up to so many mundanely beeping machines. A colorless environment doesn't help either. I make my way inside. Taking slow and quiet steps. Careful to not disturb him.<br/><br/>But one squeaky step makes him stir and lookup. "Hey." He sees how damp my face is. "Were you that worried?" I rush to his side and hug him as tight as I'm able. Holding onto him for dear life. <br/><br/>"Hey, hey...I'm gonna be fine..." I pull a chair to the side of the bed and deliver a hard pill he's gonna have to swallow.<br/><br/>"We're gonna have to give up cigs, Mick... The doctor says if we consume any more nicotine...it could turn deadly." He looks up, worry and shame color his face.<br/><br/>"Yeah...I know, he uh...let me know that." He looks down at the bed, hands wringing together. "I'm sorry I let it get so out of control..."<br/><br/>"Me too...I should've known that living in a family of addicts would catch up to me one day..." Mickey laughs at this, and I allow it. I need less tension than is being provided between this conversation.<br/><br/>"We're in this together." I take his hand. Sweaty and clammy. But I don't mind. I love him too much to care. "I love you...and I'm not gonna let you go through this alone. You've been smoking for so much longer than I have. So it's gonna take more for you to kick it. But I will fight for and with you." He smiles and begins to teat up too.<br/><br/>"Enough of that sappy shit, c' mere..." I smile and walk over and he kisses me. With as much passion and force as he can muster in his weakened state. "I love you so fuckin' much, Ian Gallagher..." I smile against his lips.<br/><br/>"And I love you, Mickey Milkovich."<br/><br/></p><hr/><p><br/>All that is what lead to today. Mickey refusing to leave our bed. Refusing to eat, drink, talk. Staying completely isolated off from everyone else. It reminds me of when I forget to take my meds for a few days and go completely fuckin' awol. And he's also been talking suicidal. Saying shit like: "I don't deserve someone like you, Gallagher. I don't see why you put up with the piece of shit I am. Probably be better off if I was dead."<br/><br/>One day, I beg him to come out of bed. And all I receive is: "Why? I'm just useless...and I look like a fuckin' mess..."<br/><br/>Hearing those words come out of the man I love and deeply care about. Fuckin' hurts. And cuts deeper than you can imagine. So on one of his worst days, we're sitting in the living room. I make breakfast for the older boy. Pulling all the stops, going all out. Pancakes, eggs, bacon, coffee. Anything to perk him up.<br/><br/>"Here we go, babe." I kiss his cheek and place the plate and mug in front of him. "Eat up...and if you want any more, just let me know." He looks me dead in the eye and pushes the food-filled plate away from him. "Mick...ya gotta eat," I say, concern bridging the edge if my voice.<br/><br/>"What's the point?" He speaks miserably. <br/><br/>"The point is I love you and want you to stay healthy. Which is why..." I kneel next to him, taking his hands in mind. Tightening my grip to show how serious I am. "I'm not giving up on you...or us. I love you." I press a kiss to his knuckles. He nods and takes a few bites of everything.<br/><br/>"I'll have you try to eat the rest later, okay?" He nods numbly and I place the plate in the fridge. He sips the coffee slowly. Drinking little by little.<br/><br/>His appetite isn't the only thing that's vanished. His sex drive is gone as well. Turning away on his side every time I try to have fun. And while blue balls fucking frustrates me. I put myself into his mindset of when I was first getting manic depressive. Trying to think the way he was. And I think I have the perfect trick.<br/><br/>"How about we go to The Alibi..." I suggest. He looks up at me. Face completely expressionless. "Coffee might not help, but I know water could." He scoffs and takes another drudging sip.<br/><br/>"Don't we got tap here?" He complains about my suggestion.<br/><br/>"Yeah, well, there are some people that wanna see you..." He sighs and nods.<br/><br/>"Ok...but if I'm not feeling better in an hour. You're gonna let me drag my ass back to bed."<br/><br/>"Deal." I seal it with a kiss on his cheek. I cross my fingers that my plain will work.<br/><br/></p><hr/><p><br/>We're there for thirty minutes and I talk Kevin through my plan. "Look...I know it's a longshot. But...I need to try it." He gives me a sly smile.<br/><br/>"Why Gallagher...you cheesy bastard." I laugh at his remark. "Fine, but this is a one-time thing only. Not gonna let my bar turn into MTV Unplugged."<br/><br/>"You got it, chief." I salute him and get everything ready. <br/><br/>The sound of a microphone stand being dragged catches Mickey's attention. "What the hell?" He looks at Kevin in disbelief, who shrugs innocently. I sit on a barstool, acoustic guitar comfortably placed in my hands.<br/><br/>"This song...it's for my husband. Who's been kinda dower lately. But...I want him to know that he'll always be perfect, to me." I smile and begin to strum, the chords resonating with all of us. But mostly...with Mickey and me.<br/><br/><br/></p><p><br/><em>"I found a love...for me.<br/></em> <em>Darlin' just dive right in,<br/></em> <em>and follow my lead.<br/><br/></em> <em>Well, I found a boy, <br/></em> <em>Beautiful and sweet.</em> <em><br/>I never knew you were the someone,<br/>waiting for me..."</em><br/><br/></p><p><br/>I look up from the floor and straight at my husband. Who stares at me in disbelief. I've been practicing this song for a few weeks now. And I'm so happy to show Mickey a side of me he hasn't seen before. One more vulnerable than he'd ever suspect. I hope it's a surprise that, though unexpected, is one of beauty to him...<br/><br/></p><p><br/><em>"We were just kids when we,</em> <em><br/>fell in love.<br/><br/>Not knowing what it was...<br/>I will not give you up, this time...<br/><br/>But darlin', just kiss me slow...<br/>your heart is all I own.<br/><br/>And in your eyes,<br/>You're holding mine."<br/><br/></em></p><p><em><br/></em>I begin to tear up. Because this song means so much to me. It makes my heart flutter whenever I hear it. And I want Mickey to feel as special as the song makes me feel. Even if he feels like shit. And that he has no purpose. Or that he isn't worth anything, and makes everyone around him miserable. That I will forever, love and care for him. Because I vowed to stay by his side. And I'll never break that promise. Ever.<br/><br/></p><p><br/><em>"Baby I'm dancin' in the dark,</em><br/><em>with you between my arms.</em><br/><em><br/>Barefoot on the grass,<br/></em> <em>listenin' to our favorite song.<br/><br/>When you said you looked a mess,</em><br/><em>I whispered underneath my breath</em><br/><em>But you heard it.</em><br/><br/><em>Darlin', you look perfect.</em><br/><em>Tonight."</em><br/><br/><br/></p><p><br/><br/>I breathe deep as I continue to the next verse. This song makes me really emotional every time I hear it. But singing it, that's a whole new ballgame. And I vow to myself not to fuck this up. Cause this is about making Mickey feel perfect and wanted. And the last thing I'd want to do is make the performance any less.</p><p><br/><br/><em>"Well, I found a man,<br/>Stronger than I anyone I know.<br/><br/><br/></em> <em>He shares my dreams,<br/>I hope that someday: I'll share his home</em><br/><br/><em>Well, I found a love,</em><br/><em>to carry more than just my secrets.</em><br/><br/><em>To carry love,</em><br/><em>To carry children of our own."</em></p><p><em><br/><br/></em>I see Mickey visibly tearing up alongside me. I'm glad I'm making an impact...hopefully it's a good one. But I continue singing...cause I want him to know I mean every word...</p><p>
  <em><br/>""We are still kids, but we're so in love.<br/>Fighting against all odds.<br/>I know we'll be alright this time...<br/><br/>Darlin' just hold my hand.<br/>Be my guy,<br/>I'll be your man.<br/>I see my future in your eyes..."<br/></em>
</p><p><em><br/><br/></em>I see many of the patrons waving lighters. Like you would at a rock concert or something. But I don't let that distract me. My focus stays directly on my husband...<br/><br/></p><p>
  <br/>
  <em>"Baby I'm dancin' in the dark<br/>with you between my arms.</em>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <em>Barefoot on the grass,</em>
  <br/>
  <em>Listenin' to our favorite song.</em>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <em>When you said you looked a mess,</em>
  <br/>
  <em>I whispered underneath my breath.</em>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <em>But you heard it,</em>
  <br/>
  <em>Darlin' you look perfect...tonight..."<br/></em>
</p><p> </p><p><br/>Here comes my favorite part of the song. I've gotta pull out all the stops. Get to my soul and push out my emotions through my voice. This was it...here it goes...<br/><br/></p><p>
  <br/>
  <em>"Baby I'm dancin' in the dark,<br/>with you between my arms.</em>
  <br/>
  <em>Barefoot on the grass,</em>
  <br/>
  <em>Listenin' to our favorite song.</em>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <em>I have faith in what I see...</em>
  <br/>
  <em>Now I know that I have met:<br/>And Angel, in person.<br/><br/>And he looks perfect..."<br/><br/><br/></em>
</p><p>I look directly into Mickey's eyes as I finish the song. Letting him know that this...right here. This is the truth, this is real. And he's perfect. Absolutely fuckin' perfect.</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <em>"I don't deserve this...<br/>You look perfect,</em>
  <br/>
  <em>Tonight..."</em>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p><br/>I put the guitar up and walk over to Mickey, taking his hands in mine. Eye contact never breaking. My focus is on the extreme. Here goes nothing...<br/><br/>"Did you...mean all that?" Hearing him choke up makes tears form in my eyes.<br/><br/>"Every word...lyric...note. You're perfect, Mickey. And even if you don't see it...I do. And I will remind you every day if that's what it takes. And I will stay by your side through our nicotine addiction and your withdrawal. 'Cause you don't deserve to go through this alone...I love you too much." I wrap my arms around him, pulling him into a hug.<br/><br/>"How about...we go home. And have some 'us' time." I let go. "No sex required, all I need is you..."<br/><br/>"Ok, enough of "Soft and Sensitive Ian"..." I laugh at this, so happy he has his humor back. "Let's go home...sex definitely required..." I grin from ear to ear and we rush out of there. Everything is perfect. As long as I'm with him.<br/><br/></p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>So this song was an original idea but was equally inspired by the lyrics of Shaun Hoffman's cover of Perfect by Ed Sheeran; which you can find here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ttNfD6B4wnQ. But I originally discovered it in a fanvid someone made of Gallavich, using this cover for the song. Find that video here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nf7oNki5xKM&amp;t=17s. I hope you like this fanfic. And I know it's hard to believe Ian serenading, let alone singing in the first place. But I just thought it'd be cute and fluffy if I made it happen. If you wanna see an actual Songfic (non-singing) of Gallavich, feel free to recommend songs to me. And again, thanks for reading...hope you enjoyed!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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